


honey, don't feed it (it will come back)

by sickofmyspine



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Fluff and Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Other, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28788564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sickofmyspine/pseuds/sickofmyspine
Summary: Depending on where you begin the story, it was about Wilbur and Nikki... or Tommy and Toby... or Alexis... or Dave... or... anyone really.When the world is ravaged by the Granite Virus, turning healthy individuals into grievers, it thrusts a multitude of individuals into a world that’s against them. Will they have the ability to prosper in an apocalypse or will they be overwhelmed by the list unfair requirements that the world has given them?
Relationships: Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	honey, don't feed it (it will come back)

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello! this idea has been brewing in my mind for ages and now i’m finally doing it! this is also my first fic so kudos and comments are appreciated! also pls give me criticism as i’d like to get better! also point out mistakes that me and my beta reader may have missed! also pls tell me if you think certain trigger warnings should be added!
> 
> title is from “it will come back” by hozier.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: descriptions of violence, intense anxiety that causes overthinking, injuries, brief mention of amputation, mentions of blood and corpses.

_Three months and two weeks since the Granite Virus outbreak._

The sound of two pairs of shoes making dull thuds against the pavement was at the forefront of Wilbur’s mind. Anything else, besides any possible lurking grievers, wasn’t important. He _promised_ Nikki that they’d find somewhere to hunker down a week ago. He felt a pang of guilt every time he heard the other’s feet pad against the pavement behind him. Each footstep reminding him that he kept making her walk hours at a time for what seemed like no payoff from sunup to sundown.

The only reason he insisted on doing this was to put distance between them and the bastards that ransacked their shelter for anything that was useful and broke two of Nikki’s fingers. Wilbur earned angry, violet bruises on his cheek and jaw from that night, but the dull pain was nothing to him compared to Nikki’s broken fingers. Her broken fingers only added to his already existing guilt. They were crudely wrapped in whatever material they could scrounge up after the attack, and that wasn’t enough.

_They needed more medical supplies, and they were running low on food._

Every place they went to was completely cleaned out. Wilbur worried about the worst-case scenario, which was Nikki’s fingers being unable to perform like they used to, a deformity from the improper bandaging, or an infection that could cost her those digits. He could hardly sleep at the thought of needing to amputate. Would he even have the strength to do such a thing?

Nikki’s voice thankfully pulled Wilbur out of his thoughts before he could answer that question.“Will? Can we take a break? I can’t walk another minute, it’s been over three hours.”

_Oh god, how could he forget to stop? Nikki wasn’t in good shape, he could be exhausting her to death-_

“Wilbur?”

_What would he do without her?_

He studied the world around them. They were practically in the middle of nowhere now. Luck was on their side though, as a farmhouse was settled just a couple miles ahead. He turned to his companion, a comforting smile spreading across his face.

“There’s a plot, looks like a farm, ahead. Can you walk a couple of extra miles?” He asked, _hoping_ that she’d say yes. He’d carry her on his back if he had to, but that’d leave them vulnerable, more vulnerable than they already were. 

He was overthinking again.

Nikki nodded in response to his question. They continued to trudge forward, Wilbur noting a slight wheeze coming from the other every time she breathed. The guilt was piling on, and it was decupled by the time they reached the farmhouse.

They approached the door, Wilbur reaching into his back pocket for the only weapon they had, a flip knife that one of their attackers left behind. It wouldn’t protect them against a hoard, but at least it was easy to jam in someone’s eye or through their skull. He slowly turned the knob, attempting to be as quiet as possible. If anyone ~~or anything~~ was on the other side of that door, he wanted the element of surprise.

He peered through the crack in the door as he nudged it open, finding nothing but almost pure darkness. He swung the door open, the sunlight lighting up the dark, dusty living room. The stale odor made the pair wrinkle their noses as they inched their way inside, noting the layer of dust coating the furniture and the closed curtains. Wilbur’s first order of business was parting every curtain and lifting every window sash to air out the rancid living room. Each window left dust on his hands, giving him this eerie sense in the back of his mind, but he brushed it off on his jeans and continued.

It wasn’t pristine as far as the living room went. Lived it, though void of any blood and corpses. “Whoever lived here must’ve been away when the virus hit,” Nikki commented from the front doorway, Wilbur being inclined to agree at that moment since there wasn’t any sign of life besides the reminder of what once was that sat in front of them.

After a brief moment of silence, Wilbur cleared his throat. “Uhm, why don’t you sit down on the couch while I make sure the place is secure?” He suggested, motioning towards the couch in question, grinning a bit and holding back the grimace that followed after his cheekbone throbbed. She seemed hesitant, still standing by the door. “I won’t be gone long. I’ll even come back if I find anything for your fingers.” He assured her, not wanting to cause her any stress.

Nikki eventually did take a seat on the couch, and Wilbur went searching through the dark, dank, house.

The kitchen was connected to the living room by a tall arch. He could fit under it, which was a rare occurrence since he usually couldn’t fit through doors without ducking a bit… or a lot. He went through the same motions as he did with the living room. Parting curtains and lifting every sash, wiping dust off his hands, checking to see if it was bright enough.

The kitchen was just as lived in as the living room. There were dishes on the drying rack that had a thin layer of dust on them. The fridge was Wilbur’s first destination, and he wasn’t prepared for the whiff of whatever was making that rancid stench. It made him feel ill almost immediately and he slammed the fridge shut.

“Don’t open the fridge, it smells like something died in there!” He called to Nikki, shaking off nausea that came with the odor he had the unpleasant chance of greeting. The cupboards were his next target. He crouched as he rummaged through boxes of crackers, unused tea bags, noodles. He meticulously checked the dates on anything edible and set aside things that haven't expired yet. After everything was said and done, he glanced at the pile of food on the floor after the cupboards were picked clean. He hasn’t seen that much food in one spot since… what seemed like forever. A selfish man would eat as much as he could there on the kitchen floor, but Wilbur had Nikki to think about.

He set everything on the dining table, separating them into categories. Boxed goods went with boxed goods, bags with bags, jars with jars until everything was organized in a way that Wilbur’s overstimulated mind could process. He was sure a warm, home-cooked meal would help them recover from their long journey, and he had a perfect idea. He moved away from the table, towards the stove, and experimentally twisted one of the burner knobs. To his surprise, it worked. He turned it off, his thoughts racing at the possibility of the stove working. He turned his head, eyes immediately drawn to the sink. If the stove worked, was there a possibility that the sink worked as well?

If it did, he could boil some noodles and use a jar of tomato sauce to make spaghetti. It’d fill them up and it’d be a good change from the usual granola bars or sleeves of crackers.

_‘Only one way to find out,’_ he thought to himself as he reached over, grabbed the lever connected to the faucet, and lifted it. A steady stream of water came trickling out. Wilbur would’ve cried if he wasn’t hyperfocused on getting food made for himself and Nikki. He turned off the water, making his way back to the living room so he could tell Nikki the good news.

“You probably won’t believe me, but the stove and sink work.”

Her reaction was priceless. Her eyes widened and she immediately sprang up from the couch and crossed the living room, nearly running into the kitchen table as she reached for the sink. She let the water run over her good hand, the dirt that lingered there from their travels slowly being washed away.

_“Wow…”_

_“Yeah…”_

They both needed a shower. Their hair was greasy to the point that it left residue on their fingers when they touched it. They didn’t smell any better either. Sweat and the outdoors made for an acrid accumulation of body odor that they eventually went nose blind to. The only indication that they needed to bathe was sight-based at this point. They never said anything about each other’s dirty complexions though, it was redundant to even mention it.

“Since the stove and sink work, maybe I could make some spaghetti?”

Nikki perked up, a smile spreading across her face. “Spaghetti? Gosh, I haven’t thought about spaghetti in months. That sounds amazing, Will.” She chirped, glancing at the organized food on the table. “Can I help?” Came soon after, and Wilbur briefly thought about telling her no. He wanted to tell her to go rest, not to put her hand in any more jeopardy.

“Of course! Why don’t you stand by the stove while the water boils? You can put the noodles in while I look around a bit more.”

He got a very enthusiastic nod in response and he took it upon himself to find a pot to fill with water. He was off searching through the house once more soon after.

There was a hall hidden around the corner from the living room, that was his second stop of this run. There were three doors. He opened the first, which ended up being a closet full of bath towels and rags. On the floor of the said closet were some bathroom cleaning supplies and stray bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. None of the toiletries looked opened, they must’ve been extras for guests, or maybe for an emergency. He closed the closet, keeping it noted in the back of his mind.

The next doors were little ways down, mirroring each other. He opened the door to the right and seemingly walked right into a memory.

It was a child’s bedroom. A teenage boy’s bedroom to be exact. It had video game posters everywhere, a laptop on a desk, dirty laundry collecting dust in the corner by the closet. The bedsheets were red, almost perfectly made up with the edges tucked beneath the mattress. The room seemed conflicted with what it wanted to be. On one hand, it had dirty clothes in a pile, a trash bin can near the door with bits of trash that were strewn around it as if it was tossed from the desk across the room, a book bag toppled over near the bedside table. On the other hand, the bed was pristine, the desk wasn’t cluttered, and the dresser next to the desk didn’t even seem used.

_It reminded him of Tommy._

He shut the door. He couldn’t step inside, let alone look at it for another minute.

_Fuck._

Wilbur turned to the last door, gripping the doorknob and turning it. Behind the door was a bathroom, lived in but not disgusting like some of the bathrooms he and Nikki discovered in the past. He shuddered at the thought of cockroaches crawling across the many blood-stained floors they came across.

The bathroom was quite small, but it had a sink, toilet, and bathtub that doubled as a shower. He stood in front of the sink, taking in his grimy, unkempt appearance. He could hardly see the bruises on his face through the caked dirt covering his skin. His hair had enough grease to fuel a deep fryer for a month. He could only imagine how bad he smelled. If Nikki could smell him, she didn’t say anything, and that he was grateful for.

His eyes flicked to the side, and he noticed the mirror had hinges on the side. He used his fingers to pry the opposite edge open and was pleasantly greeted by a multitude of things. Deodorants, toothpaste, bandaids, elastic bandages, and an antibiotic ointment. _Bingo._ Wilbur picked up the elastic bandages and made his way back to Nikki, who was pouring the noodles into the now boiling water. He held up his discovery and set it down on the table with their food.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall. After you get showered, I’ll rewrap your fingers with those. They’re more secure than the tape, so your fingers won’t hurt as often anymore.” He filled her in, noting her shoulders relax at the mention of a shower.

She was quiet for a minute, stirring the noodles as they began softening in the hot water. “We should burn these clothes after we do that. I don’t think washing them would get the stink out.” She told him, and he gave a soft chuckle in response. “Yeah? Aye aye, captain’s orders.” The corner of Nikki’s mouth quirked, and she set the spaghetti server down on the counter. “Why don’t you give me your knife? I’ll go look upstairs for some clothes for both of us.” She offered, teeth biting the inside of her cheek.

This was another instance where Wilbur wanted to say no, but he reached into his pocket and produced the said knife, handing it over. “If you need any help, scream as loud as you can.” He told her, voice serious and eyes meeting hers. “I’ll be okay, Will. You don’t need to worry.” She replied, taking the knife and leaving Wilbur alone in the kitchen.

He wondered if he should’ve told her about the child’s room. There might have been more than just that one, and he didn’t want her to feel the way he did when he found the bedroom down the hall. She was already jogging up the stairs by the time the thought came to him. He picked up the spaghetti server, taking over the brunette’s position and stirring the noodles. She set a timer on the stove that had less than three minutes left. He assumed that was meant for the noodles.

He spent the next three minutes deep in thought. Tommy continued to cross his mind. He wondered if his little brother was still alive. 

_Was he scared? Did he have someone to protect him? Was Phil with him? Was he healthy? Safe? Was he injured? Did he have a broken bone? Was his corpse rotting on the ground somewhere? Was he a griever, walking around and attempting to sink his teeth into the next living thing he found?_

**No. He couldn’t think like this.**

The beeping of the stove made Wilbur come to, and he moved the pot of noodles to a burner that wasn’t on. He found a strainer, set it in the sink, and strained the noodles, being careful not to burn himself with the water that was haphazardly spilling into the sink through the strainer. After the pot cooled, he transferred the noodles back into it and emptied half a jar of tomato sauce on top of them. He stirred until the meal was properly mixed, and took a second to marvel at it.

They had a hot, fulfilling meal for the first time in months.

He served a heavy helping of spaghetti onto two plates just as Nikki came downstairs with two sets of clothes. She set them on the couch and came to take a seat at the table with him. She looked just as happy as he did.

“It smells so good Will, you did a good job!” She complimented, and he couldn’t help but blush. “Please, it’s just noodles and tomato sauce. Anyone could do it.” He insisted, picking up his fork and stuffing a mouthful of spaghetti into his mouth. Nikki did the same, and they shared a groan of delight.

_God, it was good. Better than anything he’s had in the past week._

“It’s delicious.” They said in unison and quickly exploded with laughter once they realized.

“You mimicked me!” Nikki accused, jabbing her pointer finger in Wilbur’s direction, and he made a fake shocked face.

“Miss Nikita, I would _never_ think of doing such a thing.” He defended, unable to contain more laughter.

After a few more quips and them laughing until they wheezed, they eventually ate the rest of their meal. Sharing a few comments about how much they missed real food between bites. Nikki offered to clean up and offered up the first shower to Wilbur, which he denied multiple times but ended up accepting anyway.

He picked up the clothes Nikki left for him on the couch and went to the bathroom down the hall. He made sure to stop by the closet and grab a towel on his way. He entered the bathroom and set his clothes on the toilet lid, then shut the door to give himself some privacy. He turned on the shower before he got undressed so the water was warm.

He shed his jacket and pulled his shirt above his head, then shimmed off the rest of his clothes. He wanted to hurry so he didn’t hog all the hot water, so he wasted no time. He was in so much of a hurry that he forgot to take off his socks, which ended up getting soaked and tossed on the floor with the rest of his clothes.

The water that ran down the drain was brown as he scrubbed his body with body wash. It felt like he was a lizard shedding its skin every time he rinsed the dirt off his skin. It felt good nonetheless, but he knew he had to be disgusting before. He was glad to get clean, especially since it could be another few months since he had the opportunity to be this clean again. He even shampooed his hair twice, not trusting that the grime would make its way out on the first wash. He only conditioned once, and he scrubbed his face hard enough to make his bruises sting.

He towelled his body dry, then his hair and face. He hardly recognized himself. He got so used to seeing the blood and grime on his face. It was nice to finally see the face he so desperately missed. He used the deodorant from the mirror and got dressed, feeling fresh and comfortable. Nikki chose a yellow jumper for him, which was fitting seeing as it was his color. He picked up his dirty clothes and took them to the living room, leaving them by the front door. He took Nikki’s suggestion of burning their clothes literally and made a note to check if this house had a shed tomorrow.

He decided to find a better way of storing the food he found while Nikki showered. If this was a permanent living situation, he’d throw out all the expired things in the cupboards and put everything there, but he didn’t think that’d work out with them only staying a couple of days. He decided to make use of the counter space since they didn’t need it. Organizing everything by category yet again and keeping them out of the way. He leaned against the fridge afterwards, rubbing his tired eyes.

They needed at least twelve hours of sleep after this, no doubt. Wilbur could probably sleep for twenty-four hours if the world allowed it. He wished humans could hibernate. A good night’s sleep would probably solve a lot of the world’s problems… or their previous problems anyway. A good night’s sleep surely wouldn’t fix an apocalypse, at least not in Wilbur’s mind.

“Hey, Will? Can you help me with something?” Came Nikki’s voice from the kitchen archway. Her hair was wet and her face was devoid of the dirt and dried blood that was once covering it. She too dropped her old clothes off by the front door. What she once wore was replaced by a black tank top, purple jacket, and jeans they were slightly too big for her.

“Sure, what is it?” He questioned, grabbing the elastic bandages off the table for later.

“Can you braid my hair for me? I can't do it with my fingers like this.”

_Oh. He’s braided hair before, this’ll be easy._

“Of course, sit.” He agreed, pulling out one of the dining room chairs. She obeyed and he first kneeled in front of her. He gently took her hand, noting that she took off the dirty bandages from before already, and got to work wrapping her fingers in the bandages. He made sure it was tight but not tight enough to hurt her.

Once the bandages were secure, he moved behind her and began to plait her hair. “I did this a lot for my brother Dave growing up.” He commented as he weaved the three chunks of brunette hair together. Reminiscing about his childhood as he went through the motions.

“You have a brother?”

“Two younger brothers. Tommy and Dave.”

“Where are they?”

“Not sure. We got separated when this whole thing blew up.”

Wilbur had been overseas when the Granite Virus started popping up. He just flew back home when it hit. The airport was full of people with speckled skin, they were irritated, and a few began attacking anyone who wasn’t fully infected. He remembered nearly losing his life to a woman who grabbed a hold of his hair and attempted to rip out his clavicle with her teeth. Phil had been there just in time to save him, but they were separated on their way back to the car.

“You haven't seen any of them since?” Nikki asked, making Wilbur frown a bit.

“No. They were gone when I finally made it back to the house, no note or anything.” He replied, remembering when he walked inside his childhood home. His family was nowhere to be found, the house was a wreck. He remembered curling up in his dad’s bed, cradling his family’s belongings and violently sobbing until he fell asleep. He sniffled but played it off as allergies by coughing.

Once he was done with Nikki's hair, he reached his hand out for the rubber band, which she handed to him over her shoulder. He tied the braid so it wouldn't unravel, and stood in front of Nikki, a grin appearing on his face. She stood, getting closer to him and reaching out to wrap her arms around his midsection. “I’m sorry about your family Will. You’ll find them one day, I know you will.” She whispered, one hand gently patting his lower back.

He was frozen for a moment. The last and first time he hugged Nikki was a week ago. They both cried in each other’s arms after their attackers left with their supplies. Nikki cried from the pain in her fingers, Wilbur cried because he allowed such a thing to happen.

He hesitantly returned her hug, resting his cheek on top of her head. “Thank you, Nikki.”

She just hummed in response.

They kept this moment going for a couple of minutes, just relishing being able to hug one another. Relishing in the feeling of relief that came with being alive now.

“We should get to bed,” Wilbur said, lightly pulling away. She agreed and led him upstairs. She told him there were three more bedrooms and two more bathrooms. She said two of the three bedrooms were kids’ rooms and said the master bedroom’s bed was a lot more comfortable.

They shared a bed before, so it wasn’t a problem.

When they were both under the covers, Nikki spoke up.

“Tell me about your brother Tommy.”

“Tommy?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well… He’s loud, probably the loudest kid you’d ever meet and always laughs like he just heard the funniest joke ever. He has the best and the worst sense of humor imaginable. He’s nearly taller than me and Dave, and he’s only sixteen, it’s fucking wild. He loves video games, especially when he gets to play them with us…” He began to trail off as drowsiness was pulling him under.

He glanced over at Nikki, who was already fast asleep.

He wondered if Tommy was asleep at this moment. Was he sleeping in a comfy bed, safe and sound? Maybe in a tent in the middle of the woods, far away from civilization? Did he have a friend with him?

Wilbur could hardly imagine Tommy trekking through the woods. He _hated_ the woods. He hated getting bitten by the mosquitoes and tripping on tree roots.

The idea of Tommy getting irritated by the flora of a wood was the last thought Wilbur had before drifting to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> hello again! hope you enjoyed!
> 
> so for some context, this fic and the relationships in it will be lightly based on the dsmp lore and the canonical relationships there with the exception of a couple ships and events. not everything will be exactly the same, but i’lll try to get it as close as possible in this scenario.


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